YOUNG JUSTICE: REVOLUTIONS
by Rachael torie b
Summary: After Wally's death, the foundation the Team was built on cracked and shattered, causing them to split apart and disband. Now 10 years later, the Justice League wants it to begin again, with new heroes. SYOC CLOSED for hero submissions.
1. Chapter 1

"Show me a hero and I will write you a tragedy."- F. Scott Fitzgerald

"Thus fought the heroes, tranquil their admirable hearts, violent their swords, resigned to kill and to die." – Jorge Luis Borges

Okay, before you all start submitting, there are a few things you should know:

-this takes place like a season three of YJ ten years later.

-the old team disbanded after Wally's death.

-as of right now, only **ONE **character per person.

-nothing in the form is optional unless it specifically says so.

-This is **NOT **first come first serve, there is a deadline.

-the most detailed, thought out characters will be accepted.

-try to be original, please.

-form is on my profile, so submit through **PM ONLY**.

Alright, so now that I have the basics covered, I'll tell you when the deadline is:

**SYOC CLOSES JAN. 15, 2015, **so expect a cast list then, or the day after. I won't be updating this until sometime in Feb. so if you can't wait that long for a substantial chapter don't submit at all. Also, if you have a problem reviewing don't submit. Best and most frequent reviewers get the most screen time, romance, etc. for their character.

Happy submitting my lovelies,

Sincerely RTB.


	2. Author's Note

"I'm saying to be a hero means you step across the line and are willingly to make a sacrifice, so heroes are always making a sacrifice. Heroes always take a risk. Heroes always deviant. Heroes are always doing something that most people don't and we want to change—I want to democratize heroism to say any of us can be a hero." –Philip Zimbardo

Hello peeps, I just wanted to let you all know I've gotten some really great submissions so far, but I do have one problem: They're all male. Every last single one of them. So come on people, girls exist too, and I ought to know since I am one. Where are all my ladies?

And this doesn't mean you can't still send in boys, but seriously I need girls. I was thinking about shortening the deadline but I won't be able to unless I get the characters I need.

So send me some nice, descriptive and original females, and please don't make them all take no sass badass who's really responsible and mature. Also, all the boys I've gotten are all really mature and responsible and kind of stoic, so if you want to send in the opposite of that you can.

Bye for now

Sincerely, RTB.


	3. Author's NoteAgain

Hello all! Well, I'm just here to say that I've received close to 30 submissions for this story already, and quite frankly I'm surprised so many people were even interested. On the contrary, it makes it that much harder to narrow down a cast, but I'm just going to say it: I've already chosen my heroes.

I was stupid to make the deadline so far away because I know I am very impatient, but anyway, I'm going to post the official cast list tomorrow, **JAN. 6****TH****, 2015, **so if you submit one before then, it has to be the mother of all OCs and totally blow me away or it won't be accepted. I hope you've enjoyed making your character, even if it isn't accepted. I know I've enjoyed reading every last single one of them…

Goodbye, dearies.

Sincerely, RTB.


	4. Cast List

Hello everyone! It's the moment you've all been waiting for—male or female, young or old (Not too old I hope…)! And without further ado, here is my official casting list:

~ _**Julien Durand (17): The Cavalier ~**_

_**~ Noah Valentine (18): Maverick ~**_

_**~ Sapphire DeAugustus (15): Crystal ~**_

_**~ Taylor Jennings (16): Shadow ~ **_

_**~ Zack Calvin (19): Fire Ice ~**_

_**~ Angus McGregor (17): Saltire ~**_

_**~ Riley Burgess (18): Obsidian ~**_

_**~ Jill Abney (18): Fade ~**_

_**~ Chris Peters (16): Insomnia ~**_

_**~ Henry Gloster (15): Smog ~**_

_**~Faith Tezuka (19): Savant ~**_

_**~ Danielle Jakeson (13): Misfit ~**_

So, to all those who weren't accepted—I am sorry, but you know I can't have 30 main characters. **BUT, I do have a proposition for you. **If your character wasn't accepted, you have the **Option **to change some details about them and resend them as villains, but you must **PM **me saying you're interested. This offer is out of the kindness of my typically cold, dead heart so…

Anyway, I'm happy with my cast, and I hope you're happy if your character was accepted. I can't wait to start this journey of a story with you all, but be warned: there won't be an updating schedule and I won't be tied to this because despite contrary belief, I have a life, but I WILL finish it. Speaking of having a life, I would've posted this earlier today but couldn't because I was at school (8:00-3:00) and then riding practice (3:30-5:30) and then I was at town, and I live out in the boonies so…yeah.

Bye, bye for now lovelies.

Sincerely, RTB.


	5. Chapter 5

Taylor Jennings, alias Shadow.

Gotham City, 10:38 P.M.

Taylor, otherwise known as Shadow, crouched to the ground in a kneeling positon, one knee resting on the cold pavement as she examined the empty shotgun shell with a gloved hand. Many of them were strewn around in the garbage and rat ridden ally she was currently in, and her guess was that they were the shells from the same shotgun that was used to mug and kill a man from that same street the night before. But then again, it didn't really take a genius to make that assumption.

The light sound of feet hitting metal caused Taylor to spin on her heel, cross bow out in less than two seconds, ready to send a fetal purple-tipped arrow flying, if need be. The crosshairs of her bow were aimed right at the chest of the culprit, but the young heroine lowered her weapon promptly. It was just her mentor. Huntress jumped from the fire escape with a light thump, flipping her long dark hair back in the process.

"You gonna shoot me, kid?" She asked playfully, dusting a piece of lint off her suit absentmindedly as Taylor put away her crossbow.

"Wasn't planning on it, but sometimes accidents happen during action." She joked. Huntress looked at her skeptically.

"Uh-huh, I bet." The older hero then gestured to the ground where the empty shells lay, "What you got there?" Shadow bent down to the ally floor once again, snatching a small red shell up between her fingers.

"I'm investigating a murder and robbery that took place a street over last night. A shotgun was used, so I'm gonna go out on the proverbial branch and say it was this one." The young hero explained, tossing her mentor the empty shell.

Huntress caught it easily, holding it up to face to get a better look at it. "Good work, Shadow. And it's limb by the way, not branch."

Taylor rolled her eyes incredulously, "Whatever. Branch, limb. Same diff. They're both the arms of a tree." Huntress chuckled lightly, pulling a crime scene baggy out of seemingly nowhere and dropping the shell inside.

She waved the bag slightly. "I'll get someone to look at these, but in the meantime you and I have something to talk about." Taylor flinched at her serious tone; Huntress was rarely serious.

"Okay," Started Shadow, putting her palms up defensively, "Whatever you think I did, I didn't do it. Unless it was that one thing, but that was kind of spontaneous and unplanned, and he just made me really mad, but I swear to God I didn't hurt him that much!" She rushed all this out with barely a breath in-between, and Huntress just stood there, eyebrow raised.

Huntress, taking a step toward her prodigy, placed a reassuring yet firm hand on Shadow's shoulder. "You're not in trouble, even though I've known about the injuries you gave that mugger for some time now. Nice technique on that one, by the way," The older heroine said, smiling amusedly before continuing on. "Do you remember when I told you about the team of young heroes the Justice League created? About 15 years ago now."

Shadow frowned, she couldn't see the importance or the seriousness of this topic of conversation. Leaning back against the brick wall closest to her, Taylor crossed her arms over her chest, placing her foot on it as well. "Yeah, what's that got to do with anything?" Huntress smirked brilliantly, causing the younger girl's interest to peak again.

"Opportunity." The other female said simply, laced with a sort of expectation. Taylor pushed herself off of the wall, approaching her mentor quickly.

"What do you mean? Is the Justice League making another team?" Shadow spoke quickly, barely trying to conceal her excitement toward the idea of working with the League long term. It would be like she always imagined.

Huntress's plump lips curved up even further. "Smart girl," She complimented, "That is exactly what it means. You up for it or what?" Taylor, a girl who typically ALWAYS had something to say, was speechless. After a moment of savoring the satisfaction and pride she felt after the THE JUSTICE LEAGUE invited her in to be a part of them, in a way. She must've impressed them.

Regaining her cool and her composure, the slender brunette once again crossed her arms over her chest. "Do you even have to ask? Where do I sign up?" Her mentor beamed.

"There's no sign up, it's more of a show up kinda deal." With that, the hero with the secrete identity of Helena pulled out a piece of folded white paper, creased many times over. Shadow reached out and took into her grasp, as she soon would do with her future.

On the paper, Zeta Beam coordinates were written in black ink. Taylor looked up from the paper, a wide grin adorning her pretty face. "I'll be there."

(Implied line break).

Chris Peters, alias Insomnia.

Redding, Pennsylvania, 11:42 pm.

Chris stepped out of his bathroom after a hot shower, pushing his dark wet hair off his forehead back to where it belonged. A blood red towel wrapped low around his waist, held there by his other hand. Walking into his bedroom, Chris didn't notice anything 'off' at first, going to his bed where his clothes lay. Then he felt it.

A presence of someone or something that _wasn't _supposed to be in _his_ room. Faking normalcy, the teenager strode over to his closet, acting as if he was only retrieving something, since he was after all. He reached up and above, sliding his hand around on the shelf lining top of the closet. Finally, his fingers brushed the familiar feel of an object—cold, hard, dangerous. Hastily, Chris grasped the gun in his hand tightly, whirling about and aiming into the shadows of the opposite side of his room. "Who are you and what," He punctuated, "Do you think you are doing here?" He demanded.

There was a movement, then more, and then two people stepped from the shadows into the light. Chris sputtered uncharacteristically—they were Black Canary and Green Arrow; heroes, of all the people to break into his home. Briefly, the boy hoped his mother was asleep. He didn't have to worry about his father, not like he would anyway, but Chris knew he was already so drunk he might not be fully awake and conscious for a week. He kept the gun firmly in place. "What are you people doing here? What, are you going to arrest me? Take me to jail to think about my wrongdoings." He sneered, "Been there, done that."

The archer version of Ken-Doll stepped forward, opening his mouth to say something, but Barbie stopped him short by placing a small hand to his chest. "We're here to give you an option." She said righteously; Chris couldn't help but raise an arched eyebrow at that.

Canary stepped closer, steely determination in her eyes. "You can either continue to ruin yourself, your life, and your potential or you can come with us and make something of yourself." Despite himself, something about her words moved him, but he shrugged it off hurriedly. Instead he smirked.

"And whatever could you do for me?" Blondie (female version) looked at him coldly.

She answered, "It's not about what we could do for you; it's about what you could do for yourself." Chris frowned, he didn't like when other people's words affected him. His words were supposed to do that to other people, not the other way around.

"Look," He started a bit petulantly, "I never asked anything from you people, so why don't you go back to where you're needed and wanted. Which is, newsflash, not here." With that the angry boy pointed to the window, where he was sure they came in in the first place. The two looked at each other, contemplating their next course of action.

Ken was apparently going to try to reason with him now. Chris crossed his arms and pursed his lips, waiting to hear the unnecessary soliloquy. "You listen here kid and you listen good. We didn't have to come out here and offer you a second chance. We did this because we believed you could be something more, with the right motivation. So you make your decision and make it quick because once we walk out of here, this is done. Are you going to accept our offer or not."

Chris observed the both of them, and sure enough, they seemed sincere. Reluctantly, he caved. "What's your offer?" Canary smiled.

"To be a part of something that's worth it. We, the Justice League, are forming a team of highly talented young potential heroes who we believe will make a difference and make us proud." It sounded a little sappy for Chris's tastes, but at the same time, he couldn't be drawn to the idea. It was strangely appealing.

Green Arrow cut in, smirking a bit. "There's free room and board, and you'll get to kick some villain ass." Canary shot him a sharp glare, elbowing him in the arm with a force that must've been rather hard since the archer was rubbing it and frowning slightly.

The heroine must have noticed his expression, one of serious consideration, because she pulled out a piece of paper with directions on it to a location downtown at an appointed time. She smiled, much friendlier now, after handing him the directions. "Meet us there at the set time, and we'll take you to where you're new life can begin." She then looked at him seriously, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Trust on this—you were meant for more, Chris." He swallowed, only managing to look back her blankly in response.

With that, and a "don't play with guns talk" from Green Arrow, both of the heroes were gone, as quickly as they had appeared. And for the record, out the window, just like Chris originally suspected. He'd have to lock that in the future.

Chris, the soon-to-be hero, walked back to his bed a second time, finally dressing. All the while, he thought of how suddenly one's life could change, for the better or the worst. In his case, he believed, it was for the better. And he could only hope he didn't do something to screw it all up.

Danielle Jakeson, alias Misfit

New and Improved Mount Justice, 8:23 PM.

Danielle was never really a fidgety girl; well, maybe that wasn't true, but right now she was more fidgety than usual. She looked around the…what was it? Headquarters? Base? She honestly had no idea, all she knew was that she was as nervous as hades. Danielle looked at her sneakers, she looked at her hands, at the royal blue couch she was sitting on, at her surroundings. Long story short, she did a lot of looking. And yet, she still couldn't fully comprehend the situation.

Pretty soon, she'd be working with the Justice League! She'd be on a team of superheroes who were still young, but probably older than her, and they'd be saving the day just like the older heroes, even if it were only covert. Danielle was nervous, oh so nervous, but her excitement made up for it all. Suddenly, the zata beams burst to life, announcing the arrival of the magician Zatanna. Danielle immediately jumped up from the couch, smoothing down her shirt. The older woman laughed playfully, smiling at the younger girl.

"You seem nervous Hadree." Being addressed by her more common nickname seemed to calm her, and the girl smiled back halfheartedly.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I guess. It's just this place," Hadree gestured around the large room, "seems a lot more intimidating than I thought it would."

Zatanna smiled back reassuringly, "That's to be totally expected. This is all new, anyway. How about I give you the grand tour?" The girl in question almost leaped with enthusiasm, shaking her head in a 'yes' gesture.

"Could you?!" She asked excitedly. The ebony haired woman nodded her head.

"Sure! Where would you like to go first? The kitchen? Oh, I know—the training room. It's great." With that she turned on her heel quickly and headed off toward a hallway at the corner of the room, Danielle following her.

The hallway was lined with grey colored doors, and according to Zatanna, they were bedrooms for the team when and if they needed a place to stay. To Hadree's satisfaction, she was informed there were 7 bathrooms, which should be plenty enough for their time at the cave. At the end of hall, two double doors made out of some type of reinforced material stood ominously, their dark color seeming to soak up all the sunlight into their depths. Reaching for the brass handles, the mistress of magic pulled them both open with a dramatic swish. With an audible gasp, the young heroine stepped past the threshold of the room, her blue eyes wide.

The room, with its impenetrable walls, seemed to stretch on forever. There was every type of equipment to be imagined, from run-of-the-mill exercise machines to high tech gradgets Hardee couldn't even name if she wanted to. Past the mats and the gymnast equipment was a room that appeared to be made of glass, but blue flashes would circuit through it here and then. In the middle of the room, there was a slightly raised platform that was shining black like a giant screen made into the floor. On the wall closest to that, a collection of weapons ran the length of half the room. You could practice with almost anything you could think of.

Pointing to the glass room, Hadree voiced her confusions to Zatanna. "What is that exactly?" Walking over to it, Zatanna ran her hand over its smooth surface, and the younger girl followed suit.

"This," She punctuated, "is our Scenario Simulation Program. It's how to get realistic field experience without actually going into the field. It's excellent for training when you have an injury or just want to check out a new skill." She pointed to the door, "Go ahead; go in."

Hadree was a little uneasy about this simulation thing mainly because she didn't know what to expect. "Are you sure?" The other girl nodded, so she walked to the entrance and the door automatically slid away for her. Cautiously, she stepped inside, the door snapping shut behind her.

The air in the simulator felt strangely cool, like a storm was brewing. It felt…very real, but she guessed that was the point. She looked to Zatanna, who stood at a hologram like console, programming something. She waved to Hadree, and soon the glass room around her melted away and the Amazon Rainforest materialized in its place. Hadree could only stare in awe as she felt the mist from a gushing waterfall on her face and heard the life-like calls and cries of nearby animals. The same breeze she'd felt earlier blew strands of her hair across her face lightly, but when she took a step forward, the scene changed again.

The harsh contrast of the Arabian Desert was almost shocking, and she literally felt all the moisture evaporate out of the air like it was never there. In the almost unbearably bright distance, Hadree could see the outline of a caravan of camels and their riders against the yellowing sky. She put her hand to eyes, blocking the sun's harsh rays, and as quickly as that the glass room with the blue lights had faded back into existence. The whole experience was rather discombobulating, and she turned in place in a full circle before the surroundings once again seemed familiar. Zatanna's voice boomed through a speaker, "So what do you think?"

Hadree thought it was pretty darn amazing, but she didn't like when things left and came back that quickly, "It's great!" She called in no general direction, but the simulator had got her thinking—if something that seemed so brilliantly real could disappear in an instant, how fast could something that still didn't seem real fade like smoke?


	6. Finger Blades and Magic Boys

A/N: Hey folks, it's been months but I've been too busy, and paradoxically, too lazy to write much. But summer's coming, which means I'll have nothing to do but write.

WARNING: This chapter will be confusing—I intended it to be. I've thrown you all into the thick of things and skipped the intros, but there will be flashbacks to help explain what the holy heck is happening.

Note that things will be written differently from the first chapter; hope you all don't mind.

Obsidian's POV, AKA Riley Burgess.

A dull ache, heavy as a truckload of bricks, throbbed in all of my limbs. I opened my eyes, wincing when it felt like one of Crystal's ice daggers slowing sliding into my brain. Not a good sign…What the hell happened_?_ I blinked the unconsciousness away, forcing myself to be alert, head pains be damned.

My surroundings slowly clicked into focus with all the resolution of a movie from 1930, but it was clear enough to see the scene in front of me. A horrified gasp seeped past my lips.

Some of my teammates, heads hung forward, bodies beaten and limp, slumped against the metal walls of our confinement while the others were shackled to polls in the center. But luckily, I could also see they weren't dead. Determined, I yanked at my chains, utilizing all the strength I could muster. They didn't even crack a little bit. Nothing.

I craned my head back over my shoulder, staring down at my wrists chained to the large steel rod cemented from the floor. My features crunched into a frown; they chains weren't even high quality. Why wasn't I able to focus my strength and break them?

Then realization struck—cold, harsh realization. Around my neck, I felt something blocky and definitely out of place. Belle Rev (A/N: I can't recall if that's how the prison is spelled or not; feel free to correct me in the reviews!) Inhibitor collars.

The only reason I even knew this was because I did my homework, seeing as that prison stopped using the collars about seven years ago. Now they implant computerized tracker chips into all the inmates' brains. Much, much more effective than the collars: the only way to deactivate the chips is to die.

Looks like I'll be getting out of this the old fashioned way. No powers.

As I try to wriggle my wrists around my constraints, I contemplate how we, the Team, managed to even get in this unfortunate position. Our first mission and we've been kidnapped. Grade a start for sure.

The job was simple, and if I'm being completely honest, a little insulting to our skill level. A practice run, so to speak. Anyway, the job was to infiltrate a warehouse in downtown metropolis where an ungodly amount of heroin, LSD, and crack was located. Old school stuff meant for the police; not heroes.

Not surprisingly, it turned out to be a little more complicated than that. There weren't just drugs, but also high tech weapons, nanobots, and even a few highly controversial test drones who harbor the nasty habit of taking on a mind of their own. Literally.

Not only that, but the arms dealers themselves were present and were none other than The AztecOrder, an elite group of super-villains who dabbled in everything from magic to replicating animal DNA in humans. So far, thank the lucky stars, they haven't been successful in that endeavor, but who knows. We could end up as their next test subjects if we don't get out soon.

A series of groans yanked me from my thoughts—it appeared my dear teammates were finally awakening.

"What the hell?!" Insomnia shouted. "Where the hell are we?!"

Misfit and Fade looked around frantically from their twin positions on the floor, their eyes wide and wild. Saltire began forcefully yanking at his constraints, Maverick emulating him in that action. Smog looked sick, Savant nervous—Insomnia just looked pissed.

Crystal began trying to use her powers, and when they did not work, became scared witless. Shadow muttered curses under her breath as she could not free herself. Cavalier looked as if he blamed the whole thing on himself and Fire Ice seemed to be doing breathing exercises to calm himself.

My gaze shifted further to the left, skimming across a platinum haired punk tethered to a poll like I was before returning to the wall across from me. They quickly darted back though, doing a double take. Who the holy hell was that?

The punkish looking dude leaned against the poll, as much as possible with one's hands chained to it, and his face was entirely impassive, if not a little… disappointed?

"Who are you?" I demanded, the attention of the rest of the team instantly flicking in his direction. Apparently, they hadn't noticed our guest until now either. Good, so it wasn't just me then.

The man, no boy, inclined his head toward me slightly. "Sorry," he drawled lazily, "I'm not in the business of sharing information with less than amateur heroes." He cracked a cold, mocking smile. "I knew the Justice Leaguers were getting old, but they must be utterly senile to round up a bunch diaper sporting unskilled rookies the likes of you."

From the right of me, I heard Shadow let out a low, guttural growl. No one insults her mentor. "Hate to break it to you, buddy, but you're in here right along with us."

He only smirked, titling his head to the side.

Fade piped up. "He's obviously just some random hostage, guys. Kind of like us…" She slowly trialed off.

"We're hostages?!" Shrieked Misfit, looking aghast.

"Duh." Deadpanned Insomnia, "Did you think we chained ourselves here for giggles?"

Cavalier's mouth drew into a firm line. "Don't tell her that. We're not hostages."

"No, Cavalier. It's fine. Just because I'm the youngest doesn't mean you all have to lie to me." Misfit murmured.

"Everyone, remain calm. We'll think of plan, this can't possibly be the worst case scenario." Stated Fire Ice confidently, chuckling before continuing. "I remember one time at my high school we were put under lockdown because of a tornado, but me and one of my other friends were in the elevator—" Before Fire Ice could continue his little tale, he was interrupted.

"Lord, you're all so pathetic. It's sad, really. What are you even doing here?" Droned punk boy.

"Oh I'm sorry," I stated, falsely sincere of course, "We're not in the business of sharing information with punk-ass jerks whose most likely a drug junkie looking for his next fix."

He smirked again, showing brilliant white teeth this time. Damn, why are the bad ones always hot?

"You're right about one thing, darling, I am looking for my next fix, but it has nothing to do with drugs."

I felt the odd compulsion to blush, but no. Geesh, Riley, get some self-control.

Suddenly, there was bang of a door, light streaming in from the far left.

To all of our horrors, it was Slicer returning. Best, and freakiest, lackey to the leader of the AztecOrder: Raoul Kane. On both hands, where each finger should be, razor sharp blades were instead. Long, thin, bone-slicing blades.

A crawling, chilly feeling scraped up my spine as Slicer drug his finger-blades down the metal wall along-side him as he trekked slowly toward us. The sound was sickening.

"Kiddies," He called, his voice eerie, intonation falling up and down like an opera, "Did you miss daddy while he was out? I am terribly sorry, of course, I was busy." A pause for dramatic effect, "Digging your shallow graves."

Helplessly, I watched as this villain drew closer, his intent to butcher us clear in the cold glint of his eyes. He stood in the center of us all, gazing from one to the next with a creepy ass smile stretching his face. Finally, his gaze lingered on Misfit and all the breath went out of me.

Misfit whimpered as he gently traced a blade down her cheek. "Why yes," Slicer decided. "I'll start with you; how I do just love little girls."

"Get away from her or so help me God, they'll be finding pieces of your body for weeks!" Maverick's threat was frightening, and mildly surprising coming from such a seemingly laid back person.

Slicer laughed at him in response, "Would they really? I like you son; that is quite my style."

"You're revolting." Spat Savant, and to this day I have never heard a voice harbor such hate. Slicer ignored her completely.

"As entertaining as this borderline pedophiliac display is," drawled the platinum haired punk, "I believe I'm through here."

Slicer turned toward him, a placid smile on his face as he opened his mouth to speak, but then a horrible wracking sound came fourth instead. A substance black and thick as tar poured from Slicer's mouth, then his nose, and ears, and eyes. And God, it was sickening.

Slicer's body fell to the floor, the blackness still leaking from his face, pooling about his head like a demonic halo.

"Figures he'd bled black." Punk boy said, unaffected. "Well," He said, stepping away from the pole, chains falling away with a clink. "If you'll excuse me, I'm off to get my next fix."

With that, he winked at me and turned on his heel in the opposite direction. When at the door, he turned back around and waved his hands in an odd circular motion. I gasped, perplexed as the chains holding me slid away like water. When I looked up again, the platinum magician was gone. Poof, like magic.


End file.
